


Confusion and Confessions

by Avanalae



Series: Dancing with Death [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Difficult Decisions, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, OR IS IT, Tomarry is implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21598252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avanalae/pseuds/Avanalae
Summary: Harry finds himself in a predicament. He has a choice to make and he doesn't have all the answers to the many questions he has.But he hasn't yet considered maybe he doesn't have to make a choice.And one answer comes to him tonight.
Relationships: Death/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Series: Dancing with Death [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1067285
Comments: 21
Kudos: 204





	Confusion and Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Finally an update to the series~! I hope you enjoy. This is focused on Death and Harry, so please keep that in mind. It is likely that Tom will be in the next part, though! :)
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving!

Harry finds himself in Diagon Alley, hidden from sight with the power of the invisibility cloak, sitting and people-watching. 

He knows he's pushing it - taking risks. It's a mere month after the intense night of dancing with Death and Tom. Death informed him how passionately, almost desperately, the man was searching for him. 

Speaking of Death, the being has been acting odd for a long while now. He'll act as normal for the longest time then will disappear for weeks. Sometimes he'll tease Harry over the usual things but there will be this look in his eyes that makes his chest ache.

If Harry is talented at anything, it's being in denial. Forced obliviousness is second nature. He can acknowledge the reasons behind it, like insecurity and such, but that doesn't last long before denial returns.

But here it is again, as he sits on a bench in the middle of Diagon Alley, covered by his cloak and a subtle notice-me-not. 

He harbors… feelings… for Death. Many feelings, for sure, but a certain one sticks out right now. Attraction. Romantic attraction. But is it? He doesn't have much in the way of experience with such things.

Gods, is this what insanity is like? 

But there's no denying it in this moment. 

He, at the very least, is attracted to Death.

Harry sighs and mentally starts a checklist. Point one, contemplate. Check. Point two, acknowledge. Check. Point three, consider action.

He chuckles hoarsely, near panic. Okay, okay. Calm. Action will be considered later. Or maybe the action is to panic?

Harry shakes his head.

But that leads him to another problem. He thinks back on that night and the dance. Dance magic is an open, honest thing. Its genial and yet picky. It either works or it doesn't and will definitely explode in your face if it's forced.

The thing about it though is that it works best when the partners' magic is compatible. Which is an odd and almost impossible thing these days. He knew already that he is compatible with Death, being who he is will do that. Besides, Death had been teaching him dance magic for a while now. 

But…

Harry checked the club that they had danced at. From a distance, to be safe. But it was positively radiating from the leftover magic. The place was likely to be the most popular spot to dance for the next decade.

But again that leads to the thought. The thought that he and Tom Riddle are compatible.

There's no denying it. He saw the results for himself. He remembers that night, how it felt, the pulsing of music and magic in the air. 

Gods.

And Harry knows he finds the man attractive. He found Tom Riddle attractive in his first life, when he was young and new to the wizarding world and magic in general. And he is even more attractive now, has grown into a handsome man full of assured confidence. 

He's doomed, he thinks as he rubs his face.

Death is steady. He's a cool touch of sympathy and kindness. He is a teacher, strong and knowledgeable, willing and happy to share any and all knowledge with Harry. He is constant, he is assurance, he is contentment. He is also the darkness, the cool shadows that cradled him when he was a child hiding in his cupboard.

Tom is… Tom is uncertainty. Harry knows so much about Tom Riddle and Voldemort but he doesn't  _ know _ him. Tom is fire, he's the sun. The sun that people both cower from and worship because his strength far surpasses theirs and they know it. Tom is fear and passion.

Harry feels as though he has the sun on one side and the moon on the other. Leaving him feeling as if he is Earth, destined to be influenced by these beings until the end of days and maybe even beyond them.

Harry looks up and watches a family pass by, the child between the mother and father pointing to the ice cream shop and bouncing excitedly. He smiles softly at the sight and wonders.

And then his smile disappears. 

He… he has to make a choice, doesn't he?

* * *

Death is concerned. 

No. Death us beyond concerned. 

He is  _ worried _ .

Harry came back one day from a day out and he hasn't been acting right since. He doesn't ask questions during lessons, doesn't rise to his teasing, and hardly speaks at all! 

Death is close to panic. Close to tying Harry down and making him tell him what's wrong. Only, he'd never do that because he would never willingly hurt Harry in any way.

But at some point enough is enough.

* * *

"Harry."

No response.

Death sits on the bed, just about in the curve of the lump of the body underneath the covers. He rests a hand on the covered shoulder and frowns when Harry tenses.

"Harry, please tell me what's wrong. Did something happen when you were out? Can I help at all?" He doesn't move his hand, hoping Harry will relax. 

Harry shifts under the blanket, but doesn't speak.

Death tries to give him a few minutes but only a few moments pass before he starts pleading, "Harry, please. I am worried and I don't know how to help you, or even if I can. But I would like to opportunity to try."

Death rubs his thumb against the covered shoulder, hoping to draw him out. And a minute passes before the blankets move and Harry's face peeks out from the covers. He doesn't move his hand, though he imagines his heart stutters when those reddened green eyes look at him.

"Hey there," Death gives a shaky smile. He almost sighs in relief when he sees the twitch of Harry's lips, as brief as it was. He slowly moves his hand, keeping it in Harry’s view at all times. He brushes aside Harry’s bangs, tucking the locks behind an ear. “You up to talking now? I promise not to interrupt or ask questions if that’s what you want.”

Harry averts his eyes for a moment, contemplative and almost resigned. He looks back to Death soon enough, though, that he doesn’t start to worry. “Can I ask you something?” his voice is slightly muffled, his mouth still partially covered by the blankets. 

“Ask me anything, Harry, and I shall answer.”

Harry looks at his fingers, peeking out of the covers just enough to curl around the edges. He fiddles with the blanket for a bit before looking back up once again. 

“What do you think of Tom Riddle?”

Death very nearly winces and suddenly regrets his choice of words. Not his promise, never, but perhaps his phrasing. Harry obviously senses his hesitance. 

“Do you… Hate him? For what he did?”

Death resigns himself to this and sighs, setting his right hand on the bed, palm up, near Harry’s in an invitation. Harry hardly hesitates and the covers are turned down more so one arm is released, freeing his hand to hold Death’s. The entity smiles and gently holds back, running his thumb against Harry’s smaller hand. 

“You remember, Harry, about the horcrux in your scar?” He nods and Death continues, “Souls are tricky things, my dear. Souls crave connections and bonds. Bonds of friendship; of love; of family, and so on. That part of Tom Riddle’s soul that was lodged in alongside yours became so intertwined with yours that the only way to seperate them was death.

“There are other ways to take the souls from horcruxes, but only if they are inanimate objects. Like I said, souls are tricky things. And you and Tom Riddle were… are…” Death stares at their hands and hesitates. He can feel the urge to lie, to avoid the conversation, but he knows he cannot. He… he cares for Harry too much to do to him what so many others did. “Your souls are especially compatible, no matter the circumstances.” 

Harry’s hand in his tightens, but doesn’t pull from his hold, which Death hopes is a good sign. He can’t bring himself to look up, however. 

“The entwining of your soul with his, even though just a shard, was… difficult to deal with by itself. You finding him in this next life as my Master? I…” he trails off, nearly choking. He squeezes Harry’s hand and manages to look up into Harry’s wide eyes. “I am fearful. That you…”

Harry can hardly blink, feeling as if he’s on the edge of something. 

Death cannot look away from those green eyes. Those green eyes that he…

“That you will leave me. It would break me to… to lose you.”

Harry blinks, opens his mouth before closing it a moment later. He opens his mouth again and coughs out a laugh, tears starting to form in his eyes. Death leans forward in alarm but Harry closes his eyes and practically chokes on his words, “Is this what I’ve been missing? I’m so oblivious.” His other arm comes up and he hides his face in his elbow. 

Death is relieved beyond belief when Harry leaves their other hands twined together. He stays silent, letting Harry digest what he’s been told. 

Harry is also quiet for several minutes that seem to drag on, interrupted intermittently by soft sniffles. 

But Death has much patience and eventually Harry brings his arm down and looks at him. “Can you say it, if it’s true?”

He knows of what Harry asks and it’s true. He only has to overcome his hesitance. But somehow, in this moment, looking into those green eyes? His hesitance is nonexistent. 

“I love you, Harry.”

Harry chokes on a sob and pulls his hand from Death’s hold to raise both arms in a gesture recognizable to all. So Death climbs onto the bed to lie next to him, not wanting to spend the time to get under the covers. They wrap themselves around each other as best as physically possible. It’s a little awkward, with the blankets in the way, but somehow it’s perfect. 

They lie together for a long while, long enough that Harry’s tears dry up and he starts to doze. Death caresses his soft cheek with his knuckles, and wipes the wetness from them with his thumb.

Harry sighs and opens his sleepy eyes, looking at Death. He finds him handsome even now, knowing that they were never tears of sorrow. 

“I don’t know yet, Death.” The entity blinks once before realizing what he speaks of, “I have strong feelings for you, I know that, but I do not know what they are.” Harry seems worried, almost hesitant. 

Death smiles softly and pokes his love’s nose, causing the man to go cross-eyed before laughing. 

“For you, Harry, I can wait an eternity.”

The smile he gets is blinding.


End file.
